


Flamenco Queen

by KyaniteD



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 22:32:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5887795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyaniteD/pseuds/KyaniteD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A spontaneous dance drabble, inspired by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tNcKVJsUkUI">Sara Baras.</a><br/><i>Emma knows her movements, has been watching her her dance for years, from the shadows, from behind her guitar. She is familiar with her steps, her body, the timing of the waves between a taunting approach and a bashful retreat. And Regina sees how for years they have been dancing with each other, in their own way.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Flamenco Queen

**Author's Note:**

> _Kind of an idea outline. Free for use._   
> 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  


 

* * *

 

 

It's times like this when Regina loathes being a solo act.

The show is over, they've run their billed program and a few encores, yet still the audience demands more, calling the _Flamenco Queen_ back on the stage again and again. She looks around, but there's no one she could plead with, no one to save her from her fame and her fans. She knows her mother is waiting in the wings, ready to shove her back on stage when the applause doesn't die down.

She doesn't know what else to give them.

She walks back, passing the spotlight in the center, toward the one person who's always there with her, who endures the encores with her but never seems to mind them quite as much, never seems to plead or complain, always just watching from the shadows, looking for signals and softly strumming the strings in questions only Regina knows how to answer.

And suddenly she is right in front of Emma, who is still seated but already put the guitar on its stand. Their eyes lock and slowly she stretches out her arm in silent invitation. Emma turns her body toward her in slow motion, as if she's reluctant to turn her back on her instrument. Regina tries to assure her, tries to tap into the reluctant trust they've built over the years and prays that it won't cost her everything.

She knows that before the accident, before losing her hearing, Emma used to dance. And she knows that she still does, sometimes, when she thinks herself alone. Emma could have been her greatest, her _only_ rival, her stage nemesis, the one true competition in her art. When she watches Emma dance in silence, barefooted to mute her steps and with her blonde curls tossed up in a messy bun, Regina is never quite sure she would even stand a chance.

Emma's eyes change and harden, and fierceness takes hold in them as she reaches for Regina's hand. When they almost touch, she slaps it away and suddenly stands. Their faces are only inches apart and Emma's nostrils flare calmly while Regina's chest still heaves with hard, deep breaths. She can feel droplets running down her temples and when Emma's jaw clenches repeatedly she doesn't know anymore if it's exhaustion or anxiety that has her sweating.

But then Emma's heels begin to tap a quiet, patient rhythm. And as relief takes over and gradually gives way to excitement, she listens for a moment and then picks up the beat with her own feet, moving backwards and slowly raising her arms while her eyes never leave Emma's.

A murmur wells up from the audience and there are a few tentative cheers and whistles that die down quickly as they begin to move across the stage.

For the first time since Daniel's death Regina feels the spark again, dares to let herself be set afire again.

The last partner her mother had hired for her was an insult to her skill and her passion. Robin's dance had been dull, his steps robotic while his body always seemed to move in sluggish reaction to the rhythm rather than dominating and directing it.

Emma knows her movements, has been watching her her dance for years, from the shadows, from behind her guitar. She is familiar with her steps, her body, the timing of the waves between a taunting approach and a bashful retreat. And Regina sees how for years they have been dancing with each other, in their own way. Emma had not just supplied the music, but had been her partner all along, attentive and challenging, creative and inspiring.

And now Emma is truly dancing, and as she loses herself in soundless music, she never once looks at Regina, yet responds to her and plays with her, clapping her hands in encouragement one moment and spinning away the next before stopping hard, her back turned and tautly arched, waiting, listening for the vibrations of Regina's response.

And when Regina approaches, Emma's heels are hammering an electrifying rhythm, demanding, enticing, compelling, and Regina feels like she has no choice but to follow the call, twirling around Emma in dizzying circles as the hem of her dress flies high in a blur of black and red.

They never touch, but there's a connection between them like a tight rope that transmits their vibes and subtle cues. They move in tandem in an endless sequence of call and answer, like two people trying to find each other in the dark.

Emma gently eases her into a softer rhythm when exhaustion returns to Regina's body, and their dance shifts into a playful banter between them. They drift closer and closer, and finally their eyes find each other again and lock. Their bodies start to synchronize and mirror their moves, and exhilaration burns through Regina at how easy they find and agree on an unscripted choreography.

When they eventually slow down, their audience comes to life and erupts in cheers and applause. Emma takes notice with a fleeting look and shyly smiles at Regina. It's their first time, raw and unrehearsed and without a final pose to strike. Regina senses that Emma is about to retreat, to bow out and leave the spotlight to her. They've never been so close and she's never felt so alive. She doesn't want to let go of it, of Emma, just yet. As Emma's feet finally still, Regina takes one more step toward her and lets herself fall. From the corner of her eyes she sees her mother standing in the wing, a horrified look on her face.

But Emma catches her gracefully, and in their improvised end pose Regina is arched backwards with her arms stretched out, her body held up by Emma's strong arms, and they are both breathing hard and smiling at their audience as a multitude of flashlights go off.

Emma holds her for a few long moments before she eventually has to guide her up. Their faces come close again and as her eyes seek out Emma's, her heart skips a beat in realization.

When Emma is about to let her go, Regina stops her and cups her face with one hand. She has no time to ask for permission or look for signs. Their performance would have to serve as her sign, and potential excuse.

She firmly presses her lips against Emma's, and when her partner responds in kind she knows she won't need an excuse.

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> (Title graphic made with Emma's hair and icons by [Freepik](http://www.freepik.com/) from [www.flaticon.com]().)


End file.
